It is an eerie and unsettling feeling to wait for a storm. One can prep—and we have. One can pray—and I have been. And then, one waits. Waits for the trees to bow from one side to another. Waits for the winds that want and will create free passage. Waits for the rain to come pounding, come knocking, come in unbidden and in rapids. Waits for the power to go out. Waits to see whether the water goes with and hopes that is not the case.
I find myself rolling through a mental filing system as I sit with one eye toward the window and an ear to the roof. Now and then, I pull out a memory.
Sitting in the garage with the door up during a storm. My father and I on card table chairs. He was explaining the science behind the lightning and thunder so I wouldn’t be afraid. The garage smelled like baseball gloves and earth with a hint of repair shop.
Digging tunnels in the snow in the front so that the dog could get out. The snow was well over half my height and closer to 3/4. No school for a good week or more. Lost a boot in a drift when I went tromping and forgot that there was a ditch that ran across the yard. One leg down, one leg up, and a lot of hollering.
Feeling a disequilibrium in my head and wondering what was going on…only to look down and notice the water swaying in the glass. A week or so later, that swaying bloomed into a historic level earthquake. Rolling water and power outages for a good while and all of the neighbours with their doors opened, each helping the other.
Tossing things in a backpack because tornados were coming. I had batteries, a flashlight, passport, TP, water, toiletries, change of clothes, etc… I went back to my room for my profession cross. Someone said “REALLY?” You went back for your cross?? The only thing I could think was —If something should happen, I will want people to know to whom I pertain. That was important.
The taste of the plum I ate in the Gardens; the feeling of being hidden away reading inside the camper of a family friend who was parked in our driveway; saving a caterpillar with a friend and then finding the blue jays together; dish towel microphones and singing James Taylor; cooking with friends; reading with friends; laughing with and listening and holding onto friends…
Knowing love; being loved; loving…
And so we wait.